Whiskey and Wine
by Opo
Summary: What would have happened if Hawke had given Fenris up to Danarius, had he come three years earlier? What if after their one night Hawke had ended up pregnant? ... What if Fenris came back, years later, seeking answers and possibly even revenge?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

He walked into the building unnoticed, his black hooded cloak effectively obscuring every detail of his person. The Viscount Keep was just as he remembered it, though it now hosted Hawke's family emblem. The emblem made his temper flare, old anger and bitter resentment flaring to life in his chest. He had exacted his revenge on Hardiana, Danarius and his traitorous sister. Now it was time for the finale, the one he likely held the most hatred for...simply because Hawke was the only one he had truly loved.

He was surprised that he had managed to get into the Keep so easily and without detection. The city guards outside had cast him a few curious glances, but all in all it seemed that either no one recognized him or no one cared. Most likely it was the latter. Maybe, he thought, the people of Kirkwall have simply forgotten everything that had occurred a year ago.

Four years. He had been away for four years but he had kept tabs on the going-ons of Kirkwall. He knew all about how Hawke had sided with the Templars in exchange for her sister staying alive and safe. He knew how she had killed Anders. He knew how she had defeated both Meredith and Orisino. And he knew that she was now Viscount of Kirkwall, had been for the past year.

And, of course, he had heard plenty on how the circle before had been wiped clean - with the exception of Bethany - and how a mage, namely Anders, had blown up the Chantry. So it was more than a surprise for him to see that the Chantry had been fully rebuilt. Later he would contemplate how exactly she had managed to accomplish such a feat but not now. In that moment, the only thing than ran through his mind was how he was going to kill Elisabeth Hawke.

Elisabeth Hawke stood on the balcony in her official Viscount office with her arms crossed, mournful eyes scanning the city she now ruled. It was a road she would rather die than repeat. Looking back, she had made too many rash decisions, been ruled by emotion too much. It was not a mistake she would repeat, she would be sure of that.

Regretted memory after regretted memory began to surface, flashing though her mind with amazing speed and she reflexively screwed her eyes shut in an attempt to banish them. She knew, though, that they would never go away; they would haunt her forever and the pain she recieved from them every time they did surface was exactly what she deserved. She had given Isabela to the Qunari, she had made Fenryll tanquil, she had handed Merrill over to the Dalish after they had been forced to kill Marithari, she had killed Anders with a stab to the back and the worst of them all...she had surrendered Fenris to Danarius.

All times that she had been completely and utterly ruled by emotion, ruled by anger, betrayl, and hurt. Now she distrusted any emotion but love, compassion, and kindness.

Her body trembled subtly but violently ad the tears began to roll down her cheeks, her fingers digging into her clothed arms. The hatred she held for herself stirred within her and the disapproving voice within her - likely the voice of her conscience - became louder.

It was only in the back of her mind that she even registered the sound of the door to her office opening and closing softly.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

He had imagined many possibilities of what might happen when he was finally face to face with Hawke, but never had he imagined this. She had rearranged the room so that the desk was pressed up against the left wall as opposed to directly in front of the balcony. It was a difference that had given him an uncomfortably good view of Hawke crumpled on the ground with her arms wrapped around her, attempting to quiet the sound of her obviously heart-felt sobs.

It angered him that seeing her in such a state still hurt him. He grit his teeth against the urge to walk over and hold her, to soothe her pain. This was the woman that betrayed him the most, this was the woman he had come here to kill.

"Isabela..." He snapped back to attention at hearing her mention the pirate, curiousity getting the better of him as he listened to her moan names in between sobs and gasps. "Fenryll... Merrill... Anders..." He had to grit his teeth at hearing the abomination's name, taking comfort in the anger that flared back to life in his chest. Anger he could deal with, anger he understood...not whatever it was that he felt at seeing Hawke cry.

"Fenris!"

He tensed, thinking she had finally realized his presence, only to be disappointed. She still had her back to him, still was completely unaware of everything but her own...grief? She's grieving? The concept took him off guard and he wasn't sure exactly what to think of it.

"Oh Maker, I'm so sorry...all of you...I'm so sorry. If I could talk to you all just one more time...you would know that I hate myself as much as you must hate me..."

Seeing her current state, Fenris almost believed her. But almost believing wasn't believing and her even thinking she knew what he felt towards her enraged him. Silently he approached her from behind, being sure to make the last footstep loud enough so that she would hear. "You know nothing," he growled.

Hawke stood abruptly, having not even been aware she had fallen to her knees, and spun on her heels to face Fenris. The evidence of her tears was prominent - red eyes, stained cheeks, collar of her clothes clearly damp - and again it spurred that infuriating urge of his to comfort her. His marking began to glow and before he could think about it twice, her fazed his fist into Hawke's chest and gripped her heart.

The pain in her chest was worse than anything she had ever experienced but she grit her teeth against it regardless, refusing to cry out. It was something Fenris respected about the woman, that she didn't scream or cry or beg for mercy. Respect was not what he wanted to feel for the woman, however.

The door creaked open behind them and he watched as Hawke's eyes grew large and panicked.

"Mommy?"

"Fen, get out now!"

Fenris spun his head around in shock. "Mommy?" In all the time that he had been keeping tabs on Kirkwall, he had never once heard of Hawke being a mother. The boy's look shocked him even more. White hair, slightly paler skin than his own, bright blue-green eyes and ears with a slight point to them. Now it wasn't just the fact that she was a mother that shocked him, but the fact that she was mother to a child that was clearly part elf.

"Fen get out of here now!" she shrilled at the boy. Narrowing her eyes to Fenris, she hissed, "If you are going to kill me then kill me now, but if you so much as harm a single hair on his head I swear I will..."

"I'm not in the business of killing children, Hawke," Fenris snapped, turning back to glare at Hawke.

"What are you doing to my mommy?" The small boy stepped forward, a familiar defiant look in his eyes. "You let go of my mommy, mister, or I'm gonna hurt you!"

"Where is his father?" Fenris growled to Hawke.

"Why do you care?"

"I won't leave a child orphaned. I've seen too many orphaned children get trapped into slavery."

"His father is currently holding my heart, as he has always," Hawke hissed under her breath so that only Fenris could hear.

He reeled back in shock, releasing her heart in the process. The small child, maybe about four years of age if not a bit less, rushed over to his mother's colorful skirts and stood in front of her in a protective manner. Once again Fenris inspected the child, wide-eyed and dumb-struck at both the similarities and the realization that he was a father. He watched numbly as Hawke's slender hand reached down and rested on the boy's head, her eyes soft as she looked down at him. "It is alright, little Fen, everything is fine now. Go back to Auntie Aveliene and your cousin Jessica."

Fen hesitated, glaring up at Fenris before finally nodding his head and listening to his mother. Once the door had clicked closed behind the boy, Hawke sighed and gripped the stone railing in an attempt to hide how badly her hands were shaking. "We have a lot to discuss, it would seem."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"What is his name?"

Elisabeth stood on the balcony facing Kirkwall, her hands gripping the stone railing. Fenris sat in the corner of the room, holding his head in his hands. Almost ten whole minutes had passed between them in silence as both absorbed current events before Fenris had dared to be the first to speak. Having returned to composure as tended to do, tears wiped away and face cleaned, Hawke's voice was clear and steady once more. "Fenris. His name is Fenris."

"Were you planning on forcing him into slavery, too?"

Hawke winced, but she knew she deserved whatever angry words he would throw at her. "I did wrong by you. For that no words could adequately describe how sorry I am. But no, I would never do that to him. I would kill every other person on this planet before I submitted him to that." The passion she held in her voice when speaking the final sentence both shocked and convinced Fenris. Despite him being away for years, Hawke was still very similar to how she had been and he found he could still read her fairly well.

Like I had been able to read her four years ago? he though bitterly, remembering once again the moment that she had betrayed him. He clenched his hands and teeth as the urge to kill her battled with the urge to hold her. "So why did you name him after me?"

"Because I did wrong by you and in a way I hoped that by doing right by him I could make up for a small portion of all the mistakes I made in my youth."

She had aged, that much Fenris could tell. Four years ago she joked all the time, smiled often, and laughed when she could. But now that he thought about it, during the short time he had looked in her eyes, the jovial light had been gone. Now they seemed almost hollow in a way, though he didn't know if he thought that simply because he had known what they had looked like four years ago or if that was the general observation. "So the Viscount of Kirkwall has a half elven child. You must be very embarassed."

"No, I'm not. I am shamed by my past actions, but not by Fen. I am proud of him and any who say I should be shamed are shamed themselves."

Fenris paused for thought as he listened to her. He was trying to find something, anything, about this woman that he could hate. Yet all he was finding was honest remorse and things he couldn't help but respect her for. "You must have married by now."

Hawke pushed herself away from the railing and turned to look at Fenris, her gaze strong, steady, and clear. "I will never marry."

Slowly he lifted his head to meet her gaze. "Why?"

She bit her lower lip and averted her gaze. Her reasons not to marry were ones that were frequently challenged by members of the nobility, but to them she felt no shame in lying. The lied to her constantly in order to try and achieve selfish goals. Though she knew that two wrongs didn't make a right, it did help remind her how being honest to a bunch of snakes would inflict more harm than anything. It was different with Fenris, however. She had wronged him already and so she couldn't bring herself to lie to him, but her reasons for not marrying were ones that she did not wish to speak of. She had a hard enough time writing her reasons in her journal, let alone speaking them out loud. "Will you be staying in Kirkwall?"

"I don't know. Nothing has gone as planned today."

"Funny how life tends to do that. I'll have your old estate prepared for you," she said calmly as she made her way to her desk.

"I would have thought someone would have bought that by now."

She stopped with a hand just above a quill. "No, the estate is formally yours." At his questioning look she bowed her head slightly before continuing to write on a piece of parchment with the quill and ink. "As Viscount I ensured that the mansion was officially under your name and was cleaned at least once a week by a special number of servants, all of whom chosen especially by Oranna."

"But to formally own an estate in High Town would mean..."

She nodded. "You are nobility."

"But I'm an elf."

"And I don't care." She stood abruptly and narrowed her eyes at him, as though daring him to object. Objections to not only having an elf as nobility but allowing elves to become nobility, as well as giving elves better opportunities in the job market, were things she had become accustomed to. "As I'm sure you may have gathered, I'm changing some things around here. Should you choose to stay, there will be plenty of time to fill you in."

He watched as she walked to the door to her office and called over a servant before handing them the parchment. The day seemed to be full of surprises.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The mansion looked just as it had four years ago, only infinitely cleaner. It shouldn't have shocked him as much as it did considering how Hawke reminded him several times before he had left. All the old furniture was gone as well, instead replaced with new furniture in dark earth tones that contrasted pleasantly with the silvery-white stone floor. He had never realized that the floor was such a color.

"The Viscountess told me also to give this to you." Fenris snapped out of his trance of the place and looked back to the human servant that had escorted him back to the mansion, lest he have forgotten the way in his years away. He looked down to what she held out in her hands and he had to keep himself from barking out in a humorless laugh. A book, she had passed on to him a book of some sorts.

The spite towards Hawke nipped at his heels and his upper lips curled back in disgust even as he took the book. Has she simply forgotten how little I can read? He had barely learned how to form the most simplest of sentences before she had betrayed him and since then learning how to read and write hadn't exactly been on his list of things to do. "Thanks," he all but snarled to the servant as he tossed the book into one of the chairs.

"Have I done something wrong, missere?"

"No, not you."

From the corner of his eye he saw the servant girl curtsy before he spun on his heel and began his ascent to the room he had so frequently stayed within four years ago. He hopes Hawke had not touched that room too much, needing a place that had not suffered her touch. As it was, however, the room had been altered though not nearly as severely as the others seemed to be. The stone floor was like that of the remainder of the mansion - clean, shiney, and an odd silver-white. The fireplace was still where it had been before (had it moved, he would have been both engraged and amazed at the fact that she had somehow achieved to move something such as a built-in fireplace) and the window remained. Other than that, however, nothing seemed the same.

There were two hunter green wingback chairs before the fire, a small circular mahagany table with a folded piece of parchment on a golden dish in between them and an ornate clearly Olesian rug underneath. Next to the fire, a set of golden picks, prods, and shovels for before mentioned fire. Where the small table had been now held a dark desk with a whole army of quills, ink and parchment at the ready. To his immediate right up were bookshelves, lined with all the books nobility such as he could desire. The window he had stared out of in contemplation so many times were lined with curtains of a dark brown. Upon closer inspection, he found them to be made of silk.

The room enraged him and he swiftly spun on his heel and stormed down to where he had last seen the fair-haired, fair-skinned human servant. To his surprise, she stood exactly where he had left her before and he made a mental note to ask he why she hadn't left; but for the time being his mind was busy with something else entirely. "If you want some extra coin or some fine decorations, come this way now." The servant woman jumped at first, clearly surprised, before taking at a run to the room Fenris had just vacated. "Take whatever you like. If you need help bringing it to your place I will carry things for you."

The woman paused for a moment before slowly turning to Fenris with wary eyes. "Are you sure, missere?"

"I'm sure. Take it all if you wish. I have no desire for such things." As she went about the room filling her arms with everything she could carry, Fenris went to the circular table between the two chairs and picked up the piece of parchment. He didn't know why he bothered even looking at it, considering how little he could actually read, but he felt compelled to at least take a look.

Fenris -

Here is a list of people to aid in your reading and writing.

Alain Underrige

Kellyn Hoyst

Gregoir Frost

Demitri Orlain

You may also call upon me, should you wish.

At the bottom was the Hawke crest. Of course it was from Hawke, he thought as he crumpled it and threw the wad of paper into the fire vehemently. He wasn't sure whether he should be pleased that she had thought to provide him a list of tutors or if he should be insulted by her insistantly using only simple language in the note. "Why were you just standing there?" he asked the woman in an attempt to distract his mind.

She stilled for a moment, unaccustomed to the question and unsure of how to go about responding. The nobles she normally served never asked such things, but they had all been born nobles and so were accustomed to the rules that servants abided. "Permission to speak freely?"

"Yes, and never ask that again. While in my company I only want people to speak plainly and honestly to me, yourself included."

"You didn't tell me I was dismissed and I'm supposed to wait for your command to go."

"Who told you to do that? Hawke?" he snarled as he spun on his heel to the woman.

The woman paused, clearly unsure of what to do. She had never had to participate in such an odd conversation before, least of all with nobility. "No, missere. All servants are taught to wait as such."

His templer cooled slightly as he turned around to the fire once more, watching the last bit of the parchment turn to ash. "I see. Let me make this clear then: while in my house and around me, you are as good as a free person. Speak as you want, come and go as you desire. I have not gotten this far in life unable to process honesty and cuelty, and I have not lived this long by being unable to take care of myself."

"The Viscount had told me as much, but I felt it safer to wait and see for myself first."

Again he turned his head to look at the woman. "Hawke told you to behave with me as you would any other?"

She nodded. "Me and every other servant in Kirkwall. She told us that though you are nobility, you won't want to be treated as the other nobility and likely won't even like having servants. Said for us to treat and speak to you as we would our own family."

So Hawke had decorated his mansion as though she believed him to be expecting only the finest things and yet told servants to treat him as though he were just like them? It didn't add up. "Tell any other servants here to take anything made of gold or silk as they wish. And take any books you like," he said as he turned and headed for the door. He needed to walk, needed to process everything.


End file.
